


How The Mighty Have Fallen

by mikki_strange



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Back to Hogwarts, F/M, Hogwarts Eighth Year, If you read between the lines, Light Angst, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Out of Character, Post-War, Separation Anxiety, slightly?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2015-03-27
Packaged: 2018-03-19 20:10:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3622662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikki_strange/pseuds/mikki_strange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Goodb-“ she choked on her own tears, unable to finish saying such a terrible word; it sounded final. It sounded like forever. She tried again, “look after each other. I’ll be back before you know it.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	How The Mighty Have Fallen

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing but the plot bunnies hopping around in my head! x

For Hermione it was never a question of whether or not she would complete her seventh year at Hogwarts; by the time she had received the letter offering her a chance to go back she was already packed and ready to go. In fact, had she not received that letter, she would have barged into the school demanding the opportunity to finish her final year.

Ron and Harry were a different story. Both had, upon being released of the burden that was Voldemort, been immediately snatched up by the Auror department. When they received word that they could finish their education at Hogwarts they had been struck by the realisation that it was pointless; for what would they be doing other than working towards jobs they already had? They were happy with their jobs and, as an extension of that, the lives they each lead. It did not come as a shock to them, though, that Hermione had decided to return for the final year.

————————

When the day finally came for Hermione to leave it was with heavy hearts that the trio bid each other farewell. They had stayed close, closer than normal friends would, after the war was over. At times it was almost as if they might wake up and discover that it had all been a dream; that, in the end, one or both of their friends had actually died in the war and they were alone. The Golden Trio were not golden, in fact they didn't shine at all. They were rusted. Plagued by separation anxiety and flashbacks of a horror they’ll never forget, they needed each other to make it through some days. 

Days when Harry woke up shaking because he had dreamt of Voldemort’s return, or when Ron remembered seeing Fred’s empty eyes gazing up at the ceiling of the Great Hall, or when Hermione, for all of her intelligence, couldn't answer the simplest questions because she was lost in her own memories. 

But now Hermione was leaving. She was going back to Hogwarts to finish her schooling. Harry and Ron would make it work without her there, she reasoned with her herself stubbornly every time memories of Ron’s shaking hands or Harry’s darting eyes surfaced. 

She tried not to think of herself. She knew already that the year ahead would be hard, she didn't need the reminder of her own post-war trauma hanging over her head and clouding her judgement. She needed to return; unlike Ron and Harry, Hermione hadn't received any sudden job offers once the war was over. No one had turned to her and said ‘you know, despite the fact that you haven’t completed your N.E.W.Ts, I would like to offer you this well-paying job that you have been working towards for the majority of your school life’. No, she would have to work hard for her future; just as she has done for the past eight years. 

Still, sometimes, when she was awake at 3am wandering around the trio’s shared flat and listening to her best friends snoring just to remind herself that they were ok, she thought about giving up. She could continue working at the muggle bookstore (a 9-5 job she had picked up to make ends meet) and earn just enough to get by, as she had been for the past year, just to stay close to Harry and Ron. It wouldn't be a good life, not by far, but it would be good enough. She could deal with that.

But then she would imagine basically living off her two best friends until she was an old lady and she just couldn't bring herself to go the easy route. She was too proud to let herself reach such a state, besides she would never want to rely in her best friends for such a selfish thing.

————————

The three of them stood on the familiar platform pressed as close as possible just to bask in the comfort they had grown accustomed to. They watched as children hugged their parents goodbye cheerfully. In some ways they felt younger than they ever had; all three of them nervous and afraid. In other ways they felt as if they had lived far beyond their eighteen years, they had seen too much and had lost too many. 

Harry and Ron analysed the situation as they habitually did now; estimating the amount of people on the platform, scanning for possible escape routes and distractions in case they needed to make a quick exit. Hermione tensed every time someone walked close enough to touch her. That was another little quirk she had developed after the war; she hated being touched by anyone she didn't know intimately. Harry had once suggested that it was a result of the events that occurred in Malfoy Manor, but Hermione had always known that it was an ingrained suspicion of everyone’s motives that caused her to flinch away from unfamiliar hands. Mistrust become normal for her during the all-consuming fear and lack of safety that war brought.

“You don’t have to do this Hermione” Harry’s gruff voice broke her out of the fog of anxiety that had settled over her. She felt Ron press closer to her side as if confirming that he agreed with Harry without actually saying the words. He had become uncomfortable with speaking unless the situation called for it after the war, preferring to use gestures and facial expressions to convey what he wanted to say. 

“… I know,” she replied quietly, “but this is the only way i’ll get a good job.” she gave her messy-haired friend a shaky smile and squeezed the hand that was intertwined with Ron’s. 

The train’s warning whistle pierced the babble of the platform and children scrambled to board the Hogwarts Express. Hermione huffed out a breath and tried not to let her nervousness show on her face as she disentangled herself from her friends. She turned to face them with a carefully constructed mask of confidence, in the hopes that seeing her look so sure of herself would help the two of them cope. The idea crumbled like dust when she caught sight of her best friends’ new position; they looked lost and uncomfortable, standing close like there was some strange gravitational pull bringing them together to fill the gap Hermione’s move had made.

“Goodb-“ she choked on her own tears, unable to finish saying such a terrible word; it sounded final. It sounded like forever. She tried again, “look after each other. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Her blurry sight was suddenly blocked by a flare of ginger hair and she was being knocked backwards as her best friends practically tackled her into a hug. They both had their arms wrapped around her waist and their heads were buried into either side of her neck. Hermione felt her eyes well up again and tears streamed down her face as she wrapped her arms around the two boys- no, the two men. The two pieces that made her whole again. 

“… I miss you already” Ron whispered into her shoulder, which she only now realised was wet from tears. Hermione let out a choked sob and moved away from her friends. She had a train to board, after all, and missing it at this point would be rather ridiculous. They had been standing on the platform for a good half an hour to allow themselves time to say goodbye; yet, as with most things they did, it wasn't until the last minute that they actually worked up enough courage to do so.

Hermione wiped her eyes and sniffled loudly. She knew she looked a right mess but she couldn’t find it within herself to care, not when her gut was twisting so hard she was worried she would throw up on the platform. Harry reached out pulled her into a final hug then moved away so Ron could do the same. The only difference being that Ron kissed her cheek and murmured a quiet “I love you” into her ear. Godric, she would miss these two until the moment they were all reunited.

Stepping backwards, Hermione picked her small brown messenger bag off the ground by her feet and slung it over her shoulder; she had all of her supplies for the next year packed in this one bag, thanks to strong expansion and featherlight charms. 

She looked softly at her best friends one last time, mouthing ‘I love you’ to them both, before she turned and hurried towards the ruby red train. The conductor blew his whistle and made a last call of ‘all aboard!’ while Hermione was deftly weaving through the masses of tearful parents and jealous siblings, carefully avoiding any contact with them. When she finally stepped inside the train it gave a lurch and began crawling forward. Panic rolled through Hermione as she whipped around, thinking she wouldn't get one last look at her beloved friends…

But then there they were; standing so close together that Hermione could hardly tell where Ron stopped and Harry started and looking so heartbroken it made her chest ache. She pressed against the door that the conductor had closed behind her- she was the last person onboard- and raised her hand to frantically wave goodbye. The train was moving out of the station faster than she wanted it to and Hermione considered apparating back to the platform for a split second before suddenly she couldn't see Harry and Ron anymore. It felt like someone had ripped off both of her legs and then told her to walk. 

“… I’ll be home soon” she promised no one in particular, her whisper sounding like a shout in the stifling silence of the corridor. Further down the train Hermione could hear the excited chatter of children going to Hogwarts for the first time, the only sound to be heard. Hermione envied their peace of mind. The children returning for another year were quiet. They had seen the war, they had seen Hogwarts at her worst, and they were as anxious as they were excited to return.

With a shaky breath Hermione tightened her grip on the strap of her shoulder bag and turned away from the window. It took more strength than she would ever willingly admit. She shuffled down the thin corridor, past the compartments filled with kids laughing together, past the ones filled with the heavy silence of remembering, past even the ones she spotted a friend in. She walked right to the back of the train; a place no one went unless seeking solitude. There, away from curious eyes wanting to catch a glimpse of a ‘war hero’, she finally let her shoulders slump forwards. It was exhausting to be brave all the time. 

As Hermione settled into in an empty compartment she thought back to all of the years she had gone on the same journey and how eager she had been to go back to the place she thought of as home. But Hogwarts wasn't her home, not any more; she had left her home huddled and despaired on platform 9 3/4.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey Guys! I hope you enjoyed reading my fic.  
> I've posted this particular fix once before on here but since then I've taken it down and made some changes so that it's easier to understand.  
> Kudos and comments greatly appreciated ;)  
> Love, Mikki xo


End file.
